


Disconnect

by orphan_account



Series: Bad Things Happen 1.0 [17]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Dissociation, we dont know what else to tag oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26733679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Briefly, he wonders what triggered this; surely, a cause had to be at the root of it. But considering he’s been lying in his bed like this for what feels like years now, with no way of sifting through the haze in his mind and digging through his memories to retrace his steps to before, it’s hard to say.He doubts it even matters.
Series: Bad Things Happen 1.0 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928308
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Disconnect

Janus has no idea where he is. Hell, he doesn’t even know _who_ he is, if he’s being frank.

He can barely think through the fog, unable to see through the blur, so detached from his body that he can’t even move a finger. He’s convinced the room around him isn’t really there, just like how he’s not really there, because _nothing_ exists, not really. It’s all imaginary at the end of the day. Just daydreams.

Well, at the very least, that’s his perspective on things.

Janus blinks, the action itself automatic, no real thought put into it. His breathing slows. He feels like he’s shifted outside of himself, as though his body were a shell, floating until he’s all but lying next to it, feeling both light and heavy all at once (he never did care much for paradoxes).

Briefly, he wonders what triggered this; surely, a cause had to be at the root of it. But considering he’s been lying in his bed like this for what feels like years now, with no way of sifting through the haze in his mind and digging through his memories to retrace his steps to _before_ , it’s hard to say.

He doubts it even matters.

(It probably doesn’t. He’s always been too sensitive to things, or so he’s been told.)

He blinks again, sinking further into his bed.

He still can’t see anything concrete. He still can’t make sense of anything.

He still can’t remember his own name.

And, in the comfort of his room, Janus allows himself to disconnect.

The world doesn’t need him right now, anyway.


End file.
